Innocence's Dream
by MagickBeing
Summary: The Edward she speaks of is only in her mind, in her dreams, and my mouth turns down into a hard line. Could it really, truly be possible for her to dream of me, a monster?


**Disclaimer: **_Fan_fiction, people. C'mon. No copyright infringement intended; Twilight and co. belong to Stephanie Meyer and her various publishers.

**Author's note: **Even though this is my first Twilight fanfiction, feel free to flame; I feel like making smores. Anyway, moving on—this is meant to be my own take on the first night Edward visits Bella in her bedroom.

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**Innocence's Dream**

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I stare up at her window, expressionless. 

I know that I shouldn't be here, but something about her calls to me, beckons me closer.

She smells so sweet.

Unhesitant, I step forward, nearing the house with easy speed. Before I can doubt myself, stop myself, I jump up and into the tree before her window, catching onto the lowest branch with a single hand. I know that this tree will lead to her bedroom—her window. How many times have I been here, watching? How many times have I seen her standing before it? A silhouette to any other person, I've seen her standing clearly, perfectly. I've never entered her bedroom before, no matter the temptation, as I know that once I do, another temptation will grow in its place; the temptation to feed.

I know that I shouldn't be here, but I am selfish, greedy.

I quickly climb the tree, the branches swaying gently from my speed. I reach her window in a matter of seconds and for a fleeting moment, I simply stand there, entranced, the clouds parting to cast moonlight through her window and into her bedroom. Her body is curved, curled into itself, a comforter and quilt pulled to her shoulders, drawn across her neck. I know that this girl, this silly, accident prone girl, could very well be my downfall. My eyes catch the moonlight, glowing with the intensity that I feel. I swiftly open her window, moving from the tree's branches to her bedroom floor in one quick, languid movement, crouching. I listen carefully for her regular breathing and the deep, gurgling snores of her father. Straightening myself out, I turn back. Not wanting her to catch a cold, I gently close the window behind myself, the glass falling in place with a soft _click,_ audible only to me. I inhale deeply, relishing her scent.

I know that I could very easily be the death of her, no matter my intentions.

Crossing her room, I ease myself into the rocking chair in the corner, the wood creaking lightly under my weight. I study her quietly with bright eyes, the colour of liquid gold. Knowing what I was about to do, I fed just minutes ago, in a nearby forest. I didn't want to tempt myself more than necessary for I _had _to come. My desire, her pull, was too strong to ignore, even though I imagine she's angry with me. A curious being, this girl. I've been cold to her, short tempered, no matter our agreement and yet she holds her end of the deal, keeping my secret a secret when she has no reason to.

I know that I should be wary, mistrusting.

I cannot read her—her motivation, her thoughts, are a mystery. I should strain to see the bad in her instead of the good, but I am unable to. She is an enigma, a riddle that I yearn to solve. No matter how I act, I care.

"Edward.." she murmurs, her voice soft, strained from drowsiness. I tense considerably, thinking she's wakened and that she knows I'm here. Mouth twisted into a slight smile, she turns fitfully in bed and I realise that she is still asleep. The Edward she speaks of is only in her mind, in her dreams, and my mouth turns down into a hard line. Could it really, truly be possible for her to dream of _me_, a monster?

"Edward," she says again, and I fight hard to decipher the emotions in her voice. "Edward.."

My face smooths, my expression melting. She sounds happy—needy.

I know that I should leave now.

I know that I should go, run as fast and as far as I can.

I cannot be good for her and yet, I stay.

The same thing that brought me here keeps me here.

Greed, selfishness—its always been the deadliest of sins to me and even now, I know that, in the end, her innocence shall be the deadliest of poisons.


End file.
